


december 7th: frosted f*cks

by watergator



Series: december fic advent 2018 [7]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 14:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: prompt: frostdan has a hard time getting the frost off his car in the morning, until a neighbour offers to help him





	december 7th: frosted f*cks

Dan curses under his breath. He stares out on the steps of his doorway to look over at where his Corsa is blanketed under a layer of cold, hard icy frost.  
  
He stomps back into the house and returns only a moment later with a dish rag, his best bet at attempting to get the ice off his car in time for work.  
  
He’s surely going to be late. He’d woken up late, stumbled his way into the shower (which was half cold, by the way) hadn’t had any time to straighten his hair, burnt his mouth on his coffee and now his car was frosted over. Fuck.  
  
He steps carefully down the steps, minding himself not to slip against the icy surface and makes his way to his car. The windscreen is coated in a thick layer of solid ice, and somehow Dan doesn’t think a crappy little dish rag is going to suffice.  
  
He attempts it anyway, and after a few minutes of attempted scrubbing all he ends up with is a slightly soggy rag and freezing cold fingers. The windscreen still sat with a nice sheen of ice and frost blanketed across.  
  
And now he was most definitely going to be late to work.  
  
“Fuck shit wanker,” Dan curses in a burst of uncontrollable anger. He goes to kick his car but retracts his foot away, only to slip a little and his arm fly out desperately as he steadies himself. This only angers him more.  
  
“Fucking shitty fucking ice. Stupid twatting, bullocking frosted fucks. Fuck.”  
  
He’s about to turn around and go back inside, perhaps grump around his kitchen for a spatula to get the ice off his car, when he stops in his tracks at the sound of a giggle.  
  
He looks around to see a man stood outside the house beside his. He’s leant over what Dan assumes is his own car, laughing at Dan’s poor misfortune.  
  
“You alright there mate?” Dan asks angrily, his cheeks going a little pink at the indication that this man had just watched his little outburst, and now had the audacity to laugh at him for it.  
  
The man straightens himself out with a small giggle, “Sorry. I’m not trying to be rude, but I’ve never heard anyone swear that passionately over _frost_ ,” the man says with a laugh, clearly finding the whole situation still amusing.  
  
Dan frowns, huffing, “Yeah well, this frost is a twat. I’m going to be pissing late for work.” Dan tells him.  
  
The man cocks his head at him, “Do you need a hand?” he offers.  
  
Dan feels more angry now. He’s quite capable of de-icing his car, thank you very much. And he doesn’t need help from a stranger that’s just going to laugh at him.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” he spits and turns around back inside. He goes to his kitchen, his latest idea still in motions and grabs a spatula from his drawer and stomps back outside.  
  
The stranger is now leaning up against his car, arms folded over his chest and watches Dan make the short trip from his door to his car.  
  
He barks a sharp laugh when Dan holds out his spatula.  
  
“You have to be kidding me,” he laughs, doubling over just a little. Dan side eyes him for a second, lips pulled tight into a frown and begins to scrape the ice off with the spatula.  
  
At least, he tries to. The plastic handle begins to bend and wobble each time Dan attempts to push it against the ice to get underneath it to the glass. He keeps going at it, ignoring the small giggles that come from behind him.  
  
“Are you sure you don’t need-“  
  
“Your help?” Dan interrupts fiercely. “No. Thank you.” and he goes back to not getting the ice off his car.  
  
Then, with a lot of pent up frustration Dan digs the spatula against the ice with some force, perhaps too much because the flimsy plastic neck snaps and Dan is tripping forwards across the bonnet.  
  
The stranger, doesn’t do much to help, but howls with laughter.  
  
Dan pulls himself up with a loud grunt. “Pissing cunting thing.” Dan says throwing the broken handle down onto the floor with force. Of course, he’ll pick it up later but for now he basks in the satisfaction of it being cast on the cold, wet floor.  
  
“I don’t think it was the spatula’s fault,” the man says with yet another giggle.  
  
Dan turns to give him a death stare. But it doesn’t really work because the man just crinkles up his eyes and shakes his head with a fond smile.  
  
“Mate, if you wanna end up like this spatula then I’d suggest you piss off,” he warns him, clenching his fists. Maybe that’ll shut him up. There are plenty of maniacs around London, Dan could easily be one of them to this guy.  
  
But he just laughs again and smiles. “Okay. And if you wanna get to work in time I’d suggest you let me help you,” he tells him with a raise of his eyebrows and reaches into his car for a can.  
  
He takes careful steps towards Dan and hands over the can. Dan looks down. It’s a de-icing chemical.  
  
Dan looks up at him, and he has a stupid smirk on his stupidly good-looking face and –

“You’re welcome,” the man says with a wink.  
  
“Whatever,” Dan mutters, pulling the cap off and shaking the can, “I could have been a lunatic you know, and actually ended up doing you in.” Dan says pointing the can at him.  
  
The man just chuckles again, “Yeah right. You can hardly get ice off a car, I doubt you’d ‘do me in’,” he jokes with little quotations marks above his head. Dan’s too angry to even tell him he’s not supposed to use all his fingers for it.  
  
Dan shakes the can once more and sprays it across the screen. Eventually the ice begins to fizzle away, and drips down the window leaving a nice clear windscreen.  
  
Dan looks at the man who has an expectant smile.  
  
“Thanks,” he mumbles reluctantly.  
  
Phil grins. “Happy to help. Maybe you could repay me somehow.”  
  
Dan tuts and rolls his eyes, “Oh, like what? You want me to – you, you want –“ he splutters, trying to come up with something smart and witty, but just as the perhaps cute looking stranger takes the can out of his flailing hands,  
  
“You can just agree to perhaps a coffee? Sometime?”  
  
Dan rolls his eyes. He says yes anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


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